


Tomorrow Is Another Day

by sevtacular



Series: The Eurovision Part of Town [5]
Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF
Genre: Eurovision, Gen, Melodifestivalen, The Eurovision Part Of Town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevtacular/pseuds/sevtacular
Summary: How the Mayor of The Eurovision Part Of Town came to his position of power.





	1. The Nobody In A World Of Somebodies

**Author's Note:**

> I took it upon myself to create the fictional backstory to arguably the most problematic character in The Eurovision Part Of Town. None of the characters are meant to be accurate representations of the actual people. The Eurovision Part Of Town was created by @fandomfishie on tumblr, and I am lucky enough to play alongside them in this world.

Tomorrow Is Another Day

Part 1: The Nobody In A World Of Somebodies

Everyone knows that Christer Björkman is the mayor of The Eurovision Part Of Town. They probably couldn’t tell you what he looked like, though. He’s rarely seen by the residents. In fact, they never see him nowadays. Some of the older residents remember him driving Petra to public engagements a few years back, decorated in his official mayoral clothes. Nowadays though, he’s a source of hatred for the residents, someone they can moan about and curse when things go wrong. They mock the Exciting EBU Announcements when they’re announced over Nicky Byrne’s radio show, and blame Christer for changing things around. They only really appreciate them when Petra and Måns showcase them in the way that only they can, making the people love the change, and restoring peace to The Eurovision Part Of Town. Christer remains firmly behind the scenes, ruling over everything with the cold manner which people all talk of him having. It’s well known that he’s hated. Christer himself, sat in his office inside the old town hall, knows that he’s hated. But then, hasn’t that always been the way? He looks back down at his notes, then back out of the window and onto the square below, where the very people that hate him move like poorly choreographed dancers, ones he almost remembers from his past. He smiles to himself. Maybe, if he goes to sleep and wakes up, they’ll like him. It’s a small maybe, but it’s something that keeps Christer going every single day. The knowledge that tomorrow is another day. 

Originally, Christer worked in the salon, before it became the high maintenance establishment it is today. Christer was a stylist, and did the jobs which Jedward and Conchita and Twin Twin do now. Sometimes, just sometimes, Christer imagines himself in Conchita’s position. He sits in his mayoral office and daydreams of himself being back in the salon, wearing Conchita’s long dress, a flowing brunette wig and a pair of long false eyelashes. He might be liked by customers then, because he would look like he belonged. He could do the styles. He used to them when he worked there. He just did them with less flair. Back then, people didn’t care as much about having perfect beards or daring hairstyles. He was basically the apprentice to Tommy Seebach and Debbie Cameron, who owned the salon back then. Renowned for their partnership of one giving clients curls, and the other not, the salon was their business, and Christer was the trainee, who attempted to give customers the style they desired, but never quite managed to make it perfect. He had joined on a training scheme, but it wasn’t all that great an achievement, given that there had been no other applicants, leading to him getting the position. The customers never really paid much attention to him, no matter how he did their hair. In fact, they preferred Joëlle Ursull, who owned the launderette and dry cleaning service next door, even though she constantly reprimanded people for not sorting their colours leading to whites and blacks being mixed with the blues. To know you are disliked more than someone who yells at people and should be the most disliked person in town is a horrific feeling, though Christer got used to it. Christer was the biggest nobody in a town where nobody was a nobody. Quite the feat. Every single morning, Christer would wake up and tell himself that it was a new day and that he would be a winner that day. Every single evening, Christer would go to bed and tell himself that all the pain of the day was temporary, and that tomorrow was another day. And so the cycle continued.

In the sense of putting his life into perspective with the town’s history, it was about the time that Carola came onto the scene (with her dreams of creating a wind farm to power the entire area) when Christer’s world fell to pieces. He had already been a nobody, and while everyone was taken by Carola, the new somebody who had blown into town, Christer was sacked from his job at the salon. The clients just didn’t like his technique, and he was constantly underperforming. His only redeeming feature was how organised he kept the records of transactions. But he had still lost his job. He became an even greater nobody. His world fell apart, and while Carola spoke of renewable energy and how invincible it was, Christer slowly made his way to various businesses in The Eurovision Part Of Town. The launderette didn’t need any more staff, all of the eateries had enough waiters, and so he was at a loose end. A small mercy was granted upon him when the tourist information board (long before Alex and Bianca, and their Electro Velvet scheme of running things, took over it) took him on momentarily, and he spent a while guiding people about the area, showing it off to the world. He performed unimaginative tours on foot, and awkwardly gave people leaflets and facts about things to see and do in The Eurovision Part Of Town. It was around this period that he met Petra Mede for the first time, young and carefree and incredibly talented. She spoke multiple languages, and had a way with people that Christer did not. If anyone who looked important came to The Eurovision Part Of Town, it was she who was presented as their tour guide, for she made the tours fun and exciting, and had no problems with handing out leaflets and showing them just the right place to stay for their budget and needs. While she showed off the city, Christer had to mind the desk back in the information centre. 

During their long chats, usually on rainy days when nobody wanted any information or tours, Petra told Christer of how she was a graduate of the dance school, though back then it was owned by Michael Ball. Michael was a man who was constantly telling his students off when they were one step out of time, and Petra was sure that he needed an assistant. When the tourist information board told Christer he was no longer needed, as despite his meticulous organisation of the desk, reviews of his tours left a lot to be desired, he crumbled once more. He had lost another job, and suddenly he found himself being propelled to the dance school by Petra herself, and left in the capable hands of Michael Ball, who gave him another job as his assistant. And so, for a while, things looked a little better for Christer Björkman. A new day had begun for him.

The problem with Christer was that he didn’t seem to suit any of the jobs which he got in a very sociable town. He didn’t communicate all that well with his colleagues, and found that he didn’t quite know how to talk to his acquaintances. The only person he’d really felt he could communicate with was Petra, but then, everyone seemed to be able to communicate with Petra. She was the type of person which Christer was not. Bubbly, comical, and at ease with others. Soon enough, he found himself unemployed again, when Michael Ball decided that he did not need an assistant who couldn’t dance. As useful as Christer’s organisation skills were, Michael could not justify paying him to just do paperwork. Instead, an older dance partnership called Bardo were brought in, who were willing to go one step further and actually take some dance classes, meaning that Michael could expand his dance school. 

It was after this disaster, when no more work came, and nobody seemed to care, that Christer gave up completely. He had no money to keep up rent payments on the room he was renting, so he packed his bags, took what little possessions he had, and left The Eurovision Part Of Town. Or, at least, that was his intention. The problem with his plan was that everyone who arrives in The Eurovision Part Of Town has a purpose. Nobody arrives by accident, and while leaving is possible, it is very difficult. And Christer, in his bleak mind-set, didn’t have the frame of mind to try and work out a way to leave. Instead, he walked and walked and walked. Passing men in golden shoes, and groups who were speeding up then slowing down, Christer continued. He had never realised just how many roads there were. The charm of The Eurovision Part Of Town is that when you’re there, in the central bubble, you don’t realise there are ways out, as you don’t need them. But Christer was gloomy, and so kept walking for what seemed to him like forever, as if he would be walking until the end of time. Darkness came, and he stopped by a statue, which he could have sworn had the name ABBA on it, but it was dark, and he was scared, and his mind might have just been playing tricks on him, since it was unlikely that the notorious criminal gang would have a statue. As he curled up, cold, and very sorrowful, he thought he noticed a figure before him. Bright in the moonlight, the shape of a man with a white hat, but Christer never spoke to him, for he fell into a deep sleep. His mind could simply have been playing more tricks on him.

When he awoke, daylight was upon him, and he realised that he was closer to another settlement. Smaller than The Eurovision Part Of Town, but still impressive. As he stood, Christer realised that there were other settlements in the distance too, scattered around The Eurovision Part Of Town, almost as if they were orbiting it. Turrets and valleys and rivers as far as he could see, placed carefully amongst the countryside. Some were small, and looked fairly basic, others were larger and prouder. The one closest to him was one of the latter. In comparison to The Eurovision Part Of Town it was nowhere near as impressive, but to Christer, it looked homely. And he’d never before felt a sense of homeliness. He walked along the road, and eventually, he reached what he assumed was the entrance. Tall, spiky gates, with buildings painted in every colour he could think of. This, he thought, this was home. A sign stood proudly in the square, next to a fountain. 

THE MELODIFESTIVALEN PART OF TOWN.

There was a similar sign back in The Eurovision Part Of Town, so Christer guessed that this was a suburb of some kind. People wandered around. They were well-dressed, and reserved. It was less bubbly than The Eurovision Part Of Town, but Christer found that he liked it. He wandered through the streets, soaking up the atmosphere. There were more astrology shops than he expected, alongside churches and an internet café which was causing a stir amongst the people who were all cramming to get in. The internet was something which had only just started to appear, so Christer could understand their excitement. The sign read that World Wide Web was owned by Nick Borgen, and Christer internally saluted the man, who had clearly seen a gap in the market and taken his opportunity to capitalise on it. Nowadays, there are various internet and social media services across these places, and in The Eurovision Part Of Town, Valentina Monetta is known for being the leader of all social network projects. Christer was mightily impressed by all that he saw in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, and as he continued exploring, the more he felt himself become comfortable with his surroundings. He finally felt welcome, and like he had a purpose. They always say that anyone who arrives in The Eurovision Part Of Town has a purpose, and Christer was beginning to find his. He bought a newspaper, and sat reading it in a small café in an older part of the town. It was an EBU approved publication, confirming Christer’s earlier thoughts that The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town was an extension of The Eurovision Part Of Town. There were stories of all that was happening, with suspected ABBA attacks on properties, and storms suspected off the coast. There was also a jobs page, where Christer noticed that the local council was advertising for an administrator. Someone who had good organisational skills and would work well in an office environment. No past experience necessary. It was as if everything was aligning for him. He smiled to himself, and made his way to the council offices. He submitted a formal application with the receptionist, who told him that he would have an interview and should return the next morning. 

Christer spent the rest of his day continuing to explore The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, seeing who the people there were, and interacting with them. It was a much closer community, with the people knowing everything about everybody. The people weren’t especially expressive of their emotions, but that suited Christer perfectly. He never had been a man of over-the-top actions. He found a small bed and breakfast, which he took a room at. For the first time in a long time, he went to sleep content, knowing that tomorrow was another day.

Christer Björkman had never been a man who had very many hopes and dreams. He had started with those, back when he was a stylist, but had found that they were crushed very quickly, and he ended up in a lower place than he had started out in. Therefore, it was very unusual that he woke up feeling a sense of hope, which continued as he headed to the council offices of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. He entered, was called in for an interview, and, after a couple of hours of chatting and filling out basic aptitude tests, he found that he was being given a job and a desk in a room of people. He had a job. Christer Björkman had managed to secure himself a job. Not via a training scheme or begging or a friend who had contacts, but via his own merit. He had honestly never felt so good about himself. A new day had started, and Christer Björkman was going to treasure it. . His future was only just beginning. Tomorrow was another day where his new life could continue, and he intended to wake up a winner.

/End of Part 1: The Nobody In A World Of Somebodies. Next Part: The Nobody In A World Of Nobodies.


	2. The Nobody In A World Of Nobodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little less angst and a lot more filler.

Tomorrow Is Another Day

Part 2: The Nobody In A World Of Nobodies

Christer Björkman was pleased that he had a job. It was not a glamourous job, and it certainly was not an enjoyable one. But it was a job he was good at. And because he got the job himself, he stuck at it. Everyday he told himself that tomorrow was another day when things might improve. Everyday he filled out forms and received memos and deals with the nitty gritty bits and pieces of details about The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town which its residents probably do not even know exist. Nobody really knew who he was, but then, nobody really knew who any of the office workers were. They didn’t need to.

Christer was similar to most of the office workers in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town council offices. They were all people who had a job in the offices because they weren’t really cut out for work anywhere else. They weren’t sociable enough to be bartenders, and they didn’t have enough skill to be sailors, and they weren’t clever enough to be scientists. They all just trundled along in their office, filling out the forms which needed to be filled in, and signing the documents which needed to be signed. Most of the workers had been there as far back as they could remember, their purpose to keep The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town running as smoothly as possible for as long as possible. Most of them were probably destined to stay there forever, too. 

Christer Björkman was slightly different from his colleagues due to the fact that he had a large sense of ambition. He did not show it off, but it was there, inside him. When he told himself every night that tomorrow was another day, he went to sleep dreaming of where he could go with his new career. He dreamt of the offices he had caught glimpses of on his travels around the council buildings. Offices where the owners had their own secretaries who brought them coffee, and people were in charge of whole teams of people. That was the level of organisation which Christer craved, and he was sure that one day he would reach that level of power. 

He remained in his position year after year, where he continually filled out forms and signed documents. But he still dreamed of higher places, telling himself that tomorrow was another day. His big break came eventually, when Charlotte Nilsson left as a department team leader, since, having done over one thousand and one days in her role, she left to travel and find better things. Christer was certain that her idea of heaven in The Eurovision Part Of Town was not his, so he smiled politely as she left, and grinned manically when he was informed that he had been selected to fill her position due to his exemplary organisation and competency in his role. He was going to be a team leader! 

He celebrated his promotion by going for a walk around The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, and having a coffee in one of the smaller cappuccino bars downtown. He made idle small talk with those who he met, and truly felt that he had been welcomed home. He had never felt so happy in his life. Finally, things were going well for him: a far cry from his time in The Eurovision Part Of Town, where nothing had quite gone right for him. He wondered how the people from his past were getting on. He thought of Petra and her kindness to everybody. He hoped she was doing well. He thought of the salon and how it was the first source of his quashed dreams. He stopped thinking about his past then, as he felt tears springing to his eyes, and he did not want to spoil his moment of hope and glory as a result of his new promotion. He wanted that feeling to transfer to other things in his career in the future.

Once Christer Björkman had received his first tiny taste of power in the council offices of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, there was no going back. Leading a team of six people was something he relished doing every single day. He had more organisational responsibility than before, and had influence over decisions. Not that many, granted, as he was still rather low down in the hierarchy, but Christer had never before been given the opportunity to choose which paper they bought for the photocopier, so it was very exciting for him. His team of workers did not especially like him though, as he was a lot stricter than Charlotte Nilsson had ever been in her time as their team leader. Moreover, some of the team felt snubbed that Christer had been promoted to their leader from an external department, rather than one of them being picked to fill the position. Frankly, they could not care less about the topics of the meetings Christer held regarding targets which had to be met for the processing of planning permission forms. As far as they were concerned, Christer knew nothing about planning permission.

As far as Christer was concerned, however, he now knew everything about planning permission in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. He was nothing if not thorough, and when he discovered he was to lead a team of people processing planning applications, he meticulously read through every legal document he could find in the library, ran by Ellinor Franzén, who was always there for people. It was not as large as the library Christer remembered in The Eurovision Part Of Town, but Ellinor, Christer felt, was less patronising than Haris Anastasiou who was chief librarian back in The Eurovision Part Of Town. Whilst Ellinor was willing to help visitors, Haris was forever telling them off for talking too much, which could get very annoying when you were trying to ask for help. Ellinor had found Christer as much as she possibly could about planning laws in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, and Christer had spent many evenings memorising the EBU approved regulations. He was quite fascinated by them, and it also meant that he was well respected by other team leaders in various other administrative departments of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. He was not liked, but he was respected. And that’s all Christer wanted. Every night he told himself that tomorrow was another day when they might appreciate his dedication. When Nanne Grönvall would not be so openly jealous of his role as team leader of the planning permission department, which she secretly desired instead of her position as team leader of those who had to ensure that any music produced was correctly approved and censored. Christer just shrugged off the hatred, and tried not to let it affect him too much, since it was a recurring theme throughout his life. He just kept telling himself that tomorrow was another day.

Christer’s expertise on all things planning permission in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town soon led to his promotion to head of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town planning and development offices. When he was informed that he was going to have the position, Christer felt like dancing into the sunset. Finally, his dreams had been achieved. It had been many years since he had arrived in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, and they had been many years of hard work on Christer’s behalf, but he finally had an executive office with his own department of people, and a sign with his name on the door. The job contained a lot of responsibility, but organisation was something which Christer was good at, and so he prided himself on how it had got him as far as it had. 

It turned out that being head of planning and development was not as exciting as Christer originally thought. He was still very much a nobody in a world of nobodies, despite his name being on his door. All of his department did not really like him very much, and likewise, he had not really found anybody who he felt he could rely upon and trust with things. There were competent people who he would assign projects to, but, at the end of it, Christer very much liked to do things himself to make sure he was in control.   
The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town was still exciting to Christer, as it moved forwards into the future. Now The Avengers Cinema had opened, and while Christer visited, he found that he liked his trip better when the movie had ended. He had only really gone to see what the building looked like, as while he was head of granting planning permission, he had not granted permission for there to be a cinema, that honour was the job of the council chiefs. Christer was fully aware that other ventures had been turned down, and only a few had been granted, such as the cinema (and he suspected that had only been approved due to the long-running success of the one owned by Paola in The Eurovision Part Of Town). The council chiefs had been rather busy as of late reclaiming land which had been inhabited by a tribe headed by Roger Pontare. The tribe had felt spirits calling them to follow Carola and her dreams of harnessing the wind. She had left for The Eurovision Part Of Town some years back, and her name being mentioned had made Christer Björkman feel deeply uncomfortable, as it reminded him of just how sad his life had been in The Eurovision Part Of Town. He did not like to dwell too much on any thoughts he had of that time in his life, because while he was still a nobody in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, he was in an environment surrounded by nobodies in the council offices. In The Eurovision Part Of Town, nobody was a nobody, except Christer when he had lived there. He much preferred his life in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, where he at least had a purpose.   
Time went on for Christer in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, and he continued to live his life in the organised way in which he had become accustomed. The people around him remained virtually the same. Well dressed, polite, and many of them nobodies in the council office. The somebodies of the town were those who owned popular businesses or had unusual quirks or were town councillors. Christer was none of the above. Yet. The biggest moment in Christer Björkman’s life was about to occur.

The whole of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town gathered for the opening of the new coronary unit at the hospital, which had otherwise been quite small and basic, nothing compared to the hospital in The Eurovision Part Of Town. The coronary unit, however, was part of an EBU sponsored link between the hospitals in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town and The Eurovision Part Of Town. The doctors would be shared between the hospitals to promote secure medical care for all citizens. The hospital had been discussed for a long time in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, when rumour spread that some friends had approached Thomas G:son in The Eurovision Part Of Town about the venture. He was a well-known philanthropist. Rarely seen, but he donated money to projects he thought worthy, and inputted his own ideas to the creation of the final product. The friends would all be working for the coronary unit in various roles, and so their positions became vacant. This wouldn’t have been so interesting if they were all teachers and childminders and nurses. But one had been the head of the council. And, by moving to The Eurovision Part Of Town as a result of the coronary unit, their position on The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town council became vacant. Christer saw his opportunity. 

As the application process went on, Christer felt he might need the coronary unit for his heart was forever in his mouth, beating at unnatural speeds as he attempted to prove that he was worthy of the position of Council Leader of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. It was a prestigious role which involved a lot of responsibility, and Christer was desperate to have the position. He found himself having more vivid dreams of the buildings he could create and the changes he could make. Every night he told himself that tomorrow was another day closer to him finding out if his application had been successful.

There were a lot of applicants for the position. Christer knew that other nobodies like him dreamed of holding a prestigious position in the colourful suburb of The Eurovision Part Of Town. The chance of people attaching your name with something was a desirable concept for many people, especially Christer. He had lived too long telling himself that tomorrow was another day when things would improve and people would acknowledge him. He needed the position more than he needed air.

Anyone who happened to be in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town was about to witness a historic event. The newspapers declared it, the radio broadcast it, the cinema showed it. The new head of the council was being declared. Silence swept over the land like the winds Carola had so often spoken of. One name was announced, a name which was to be known for years to come by all in the area. That name was Christer Björkman. Tomorrow was another day, and The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town was about to enter a brand new era. An era headed by Christer Björkman.

/End of Part 2: The Nobody In A World Of Nobodies. Next Part: The Somebody In A World Of Nobodies.


	3. The Somebody In A World Of Nobodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want the explanations behind some of the more obscure Eurovision and Melodifestivalen references, I suggest you read this fic over on tumblr.

Tomorrow Is Another Day

The Somebody In A World Of Nobodies 

There was something deliciously euphoric about Christer Björkman’s personality after he was announced as Council Leader of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. He had so much to do and change to ensure that his mark was made, and he improved the area that had made him better as a person. He started by promoting the fire service which had otherwise been slacking. The people soon felt safer as a result, and the fire service became popular figures within The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. He then decided it was time to promote writing and literature, inadvertently inspiring a new generation of poets to see what difference they could make through the medium of prose. Soon, Christer was being called the best thing that had happened to The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town by Linda Grip, a newspaper columnist. He was thrilled. The biggest compliment came from the ex-council leader who, upon their return from The Eurovision Part Of Town, told a journalist in an interview that Christer was the one the people needed to move successfully into the future. This was unheard of. Christer Björkman had never received compliments in his life. He had lived telling himself that tomorrow was another day where things would improve, but they never did. But it finally looked like he had become a figurehead, and a somebody.

He had started out tentative, reforming things but otherwise keeping things relatively the same in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, as he didn’t want to cause too much upset. In fact, he was scared too. He introduced a road safety programme looked after by charity Da Buzz and a memory improvement programme for those with learning difficulties, managed by Shirley Clamp. But soon, Christer got restless. He wanted to make big changes in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. And, for Christer, he knew where big changes could occur. He had been in charge of planning and developments.

There was a disused church in the town centre of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. A grand building, filled with history and memories, but slowly falling into to ruin and disrepair. It broke the property side of Christer Björkman’s heart. The building was crying out to be repurposed and loved and used by the citizens. The problem was what to do with it. Christer had many ideas which presented themselves to him as he tried to fall asleep at night. He told himself that tomorrow was another day when he might finally find a use for the church and bring a new focus to The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. However, no idea seemed appropriate or worthy of his time and dedication. Until it hit him.  
Whilst he had been head of planning and development in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, Christer had become acquainted with a company who traded by the name of Alcazar, who often applied for permission to open music venues and bars but were denied permission due to the unsuitability of the locations. However, they had remained friendly and had not gone against council rules, so Christer liked them. And, he realised, they were perfect to help in his revival of an old church in the centre of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town.

After months of renovation, it was ready. Christer Björkman, head of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town council, was in attendance as a once derelict place of worship opened as a brand new, modern disco. Not A Sinner Nor A Saint was to be a fun place to dance and party with your friends. Alcazar were in charge, and people would love their carefree method of running events and special evenings. The company were thrilled to have finally been granted permission to open up a disco in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, thanks to Christer Björkman and his power. He was given free access at any time he liked to the venue, and they would hold any parties or functions he held without charging. The disco was a roaring success, and Christer bathed in the excitement people had for the transformation of the old wreck into something new and flash and cool. It snowballed from there.

The basement of a building on the outskirts of town got Christer Björkman endorsed approval to be transformed after he noticed how desolate the area it was in was becoming, and he realised that he needed to inject some new life into it. Much less flashy than Not A Sinner Nor A Saint, the After Dark club provided people with entertainment of a different sort, but it brought jobs and people to the area thanks to what was now a much more burlesque basement where people could go to live la dolce vita as it very much were known. People danced and partied and expressed their truest selves. Christer then allowed a Pay TV company to set up business, so that they would refrain from setting up a trendy discoteque to rival Alcazar’s like they were threatening to do if they were not allowed to charge for television entertainment shows. 

Not A Sinner Nor A Saint was the most successful entertainment venture ever made by a council leader in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. Those who wanted special access to the disco could now buy membership to enable them to gain fast track entry. Many people wanted to be an Alcastar and the business was adding a massive boost to the town economy, much to the delight of Christer, who was now going to bed telling himself that tomorrow was another day when he could continue make positive change for people in the place that had made him into a somebody. 

It was around the time that the finishing touches were being made on the BWO Temple Of Love which Christer Björkman had approved, that things began to change for the council offices of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. 

The alarms were first raised when a telephone call from The Eurovision Part Of Town was received by the head of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. The call informed Christer that it was time for modernisation, and the future to be embraced. Christer began to garble about how The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town was thriving, given the fact that it had a large number of new businesses which allowed the people who inhabited the area to enjoy themselves and work and contribute to the economy. He was interrupted, and told that the EBU wished to centralise things a little more, and a visitor would be appearing in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town somewhere in the not so distant future. Christer was also told that it would not be necessary to tell a single member of his staff about what was going to happen. When the call ended, Christer Björkman sat in his office all afternoon, staring at his notes and plans, and doing very little. When night came, he went to bed telling himself that tomorrow was another day, and perhaps the awful telephone call could become a figment of his imagination.

Things continued in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, and soon, Christer had almost forgotten that the mysterious telephone call from The Eurovision Part Of Town ever happened. Almost. It was still there, in the back of his mind, eating away at his thoughts. He never told anybody about it, as promised, because Christer keeps secrets. A new hippie style park opened up where Roger Pontare’s tribe used to live, called Silverland. Some said that it was owned by Roger Pontare himself, and that some newer members of his tribe had created it to provide more income to the itinerant folk who followed wherever the spirits call them. Christer Björkman would be able to confirm or deny these rumours, but when he gave permission for the development, he was sworn to secrecy. And, since Christer keeps secrets, he does this perfectly. People appreciated the venue, and all it had to offer, and Christer smiled at another successful plan. He did not even intervene when amateur magician Evan got a series of gigs there. Evan was less hipster, more hopeless, but he performed his spells with flair and put on a good enough show that the people watching were impressed and let his failures slide. Christer knows how important opportunity is, and so he let Evan and his performances at Silverland continue, since they kept The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town diverse. Christer told himself that tomorrow was another day when Evan could improve.

It shocked even the untwitchable Christer Björkman when it happened, though he knew immediately what it was. The dull grey morning was like any other working day in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, with the people going about their own business in an efficient manner, with Christer at the helm, guiding the council offices through any troubles which threw themselves in the way.

The sleek black cars glided in through the gates at the edge of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. The same gates which Christer himself had walked through searching for hope, all those years ago. The cars unnerved people. Nobody drove cars, not in The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town. The cars even unnerved Christer. The only people he had ever seen navigate their way around via car were the dignitaries who held important positions in the government of The Eurovision Part Of Town. As he reached this realisation, Christer felt his blood turn to ice, as a phone call played in his mind. He rushed down from his office to greet the guests on the steps of the council offices. All of his staff were watching, he knew it. In fact, all of the town was watching him. He was the only one they trusted to deal with the situation, and to know what was going on. He had to pretend, for their sake. He smiled at the guests, and invited them inside. 

It was worse than anticipated. Much worse. All the districts were indeed being centralised. Every single council job was being taken under EBU control, and the offices closed down. Basically, Christer, and all of his team, were out of jobs. It was no longer profitable or realistic, and the EBU wanted to promote unity and coherence. 

Christer did not think The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town was part of the problem, nor were others such as The Söngvakeppni Sjónvarpsins Part Of Town (nowadays this is known as The Söngvakeppnin Part Of Town), who were consistent in their running of day to day events, and had successful industries and economies. Only recently, one of The Söngvakeppni Sjónvarpsins Part Of Town’s biggest nationalist television personalities, Silvia Night, had made it big in The Eurovision Part Of Town, where everyone now knew her name and she had developed a small following who she preached to on a daily basis, since she claimed to have close connections with God (in fact, she can still be found as part of the clergy in the cathedral in The Eurovision Part Of Town, because even religion is glamourous in this part of the world). Christer himself had read of Silvia’s successes in the EBU approved newspaper’s entertainment section: ‘Congratulations I Have Arrived’ was the headline of the double page interview they had with her. So many successful and stable areas were being affected. Nowhere was safe from the changes.

Christer firmly believed the problem lay with the towns which lay closer to The Eurovision Part Of Town, and were statistically more prosperous, but were never coherent in their policies. One of them, which Christer particularly hated (and he would continue to hate anyone who came from that part of town for years to come) kept changing its name. It had originally been The Festival Part Of Town, but was currently the Making Your Mind Up Part Of Town, to signify that those in charge were currently experimenting with policies. Christer hated them. He felt that they were the reason why the EBU was centralising all power. They were currently showing off about their education system reforms, where they wanted to emphasise how important having a teenage life was. Daz Sampson was the most notable of these teachers, and he had travelled to The Eurovision Part Of Town to become a teacher in the schools there. Christer was not a fan of that part of town. While he was opening new clubs and hospital wards, they were sending local superstar Javine into The Eurovision Part Of Town to try and promote activities involving touching fire (though in the future Christer would eat his words regarding how he didn’t think it would be a success when Paula Seling & Ovi, students of Javine, would burst onto the scene as experts at playing with fire).

Christer knew his town was in trouble. Christer knew that his employees were in trouble. Christer knew that he was in trouble. He tried to negotiate with the visitors, as he had attempted over the phone. He showed them all that he had done for The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, but unfortunately it was not enough. They had made their final decisions and all the plans were to be carried out. They left as mysteriously as they had arrived, their sleek black cars cruising noiselessly through the gates and back towards the place they had come from. That left one very serious job for Christer Björkman to do. He did not want to do it, but he had to. And, in true Christer fashion, he did it.

He stood in front of the council offices of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, with all of his people looking at him expectantly. He was their council leader, the one who had led them to a new era of prosperity and parties. The one who would never let them down. And he told them. He told them that the EBU were centralising the offices and there was nothing he could do, all of the council workers would lose their jobs, unless the EBU saw fit to keep on certain departments in the years to come, though that looked highly unlikely. He told them how he had been trying to negotiate a deal for a while, and that is why he had not told the people sooner. The residents of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town were not impressed. They hated him, and Christer realised that when you’re a somebody in a world of nobodies and they begin to hate you, life is as lonely as it is when you’re a nobody in a world of somebodies. He went to bed that night telling him that tomorrow was another day, when hopefully he would be pulled from the bad position he had been landed in.

Tomorrow was another day, and with it came a letter, a sleek black car, and a summoning by the EBU for a certain Christer Björkman, who was to see Jon Ola Sand as soon as possible.

/End of Part 3: The Somebody In A World Of Nobodies. Next Part: The Somebody In A World Of Somebodies.


	4. The Somebody In A World Of Somebodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final instalment bringing the backstory up to where The Eurovision Part Of Town currently is, and hinting at the future.

Tomorrow Is Another Day

The Somebody In A World Of Somebodies

Christer Björkman was terrified. Jon Ola Sand was the stuff of legend, the head of the EBU who controlled The Eurovision Part Of Town. A meeting with him was a thought which made him shudder. He was also equally nervous about returning to the place which, for many years, had made him miserable. He had very few good memories of The Eurovision Part Of Town, and as the car he was in glided through the streets, his stomach did a thousand backflips. He wished the day would be over. Tomorrow is another day, he told himself, another day when this ordeal will be over. He entered the offices in a daze, and sat in a waiting room, flicking through the newspaper. The church had a new prayer group, headed by Marija Šerifović and a peace group named Dervish were campaigning against the use of pesticides and the cutting down of trees, with the slogan ‘They Can’t Stop The Spring’. 

Before he could catch up with any further news, Christer was shown into a room where Jon Ola Sand himself was stood.   
“Christer Björkman.” A statement, not a question. Christer enjoyed that. He was a statement, not something unknown. It was in this moment that Christer realised that he was a somebody in The Eurovision Part Of Town, not the nobody he had always been. The meeting was short, and Christer remained in awe of Jon Ola Sand’s immense power. Christer Björkman walked out of the room, and into his very own office. His place was within The Eurovision Part Of Town, now.

The newspapers in The Eurovision Part Of Town all announced it the day after. Christer Björkman had been appointed as the first ever mayor of The Eurovision Part Of Town. His name was on everyone’s lips. In The Ark nightclub (this is now where Maraaya’s club is – it was a lot more glam back then), the worrying kind all stressed over what this would mean for The Eurovision Part Of Town. Roger Cicero spoke against the EBU’s appointment, for he firmly believed that women should rule the world, and thus, the appointment was a poor choice. But, on the whole, Christer’s appointment met little serious opposition. For, as so often happens in The Eurovision Part Of Town, the people moved on. There were shops to run, people to see, visitors to scrutinise. And so, Christer Björkman sat in his office, surveying his new kingdom, silently thanking the EBU for saving him from ruin. He had so nearly been unemployed as a result of their closure of The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town council offices. Tomorrow was another day when he would show his appreciation for the EBU as much as possible.

Things moved on, and Christer used his organisational and leadership abilities to the maximum potential, loving every minute of his job. The people loved him to begin with, as he endorsed projects such as Maria Haukas Storeng’s Hold On Be Strong campaign, which aimed to encourage anybody feeling low to reach out and contact someone who could help them. However, some people began to hate Christer a lot. He aimed to know everything about The Eurovision Part Of Town, and everybody in it, alongside their plans. Some did not like this. One such person was Kalomira, who was trying to become successful in selling scented candles, and was so far making a success due to her mysterious scents. But Christer wanted to know what her secret combination was, and she was going to extreme lengths to stop him from getting his hands on it, as she felt sure that he would sell it to other places and then add an EBU approved fee on top, which would put her out of business. Kalomira wasn’t alone in her suspicions. Ani Lorak, the recent star of the stage, crossed Christer and was soon dubbed a Shady Lady by the press, reducing how many performances she was able to do. A group of otherwise fine market sellers gave up trying to sell their goods after Christer got involved, and became Pirates Of The Sea. People all over The Eurovision Part Of Town were getting seriously annoyed by Christer Björkman and his meddling mayoral moments. 

Things continued. Christer was a name who everyone in The Eurovision Part Of Town knew, and when he made public appearances, people cheered. But the cheers grew increasingly half-hearted as time went on. People grew used to his projects, and as people moved in and out, as everyone does, they were unaware just how much effort Christer put into organising The Eurovision Part Of Town. All they knew of was that he was the name in every tourist-information leaflet, he was the face in every newspaper. He was The Eurovision Part Of Town. And, in a place where legends never die, this was dangerous for Christer Björkman, for every single person who moved into the area was greeted by another person who somehow disliked the mayor and all he was doing. Nobody ever mentioned it, it just remained an unspoken truth that the mayor was not popular. 

Christer was not too disheartened by this, for he did not really realise that people disliked him so much at this point. He had some loyal supporters, who did him proud. The most notable of these was Malena Ernman, who was the main columnist in the newspaper, and a huge celebrity. Known as ‘La Voix’, her outspoken opinions were believed and taken as fact by most of The Eurovision Part Of Town. Therefore, her praising of Christer stopped any serious hate from occurring, because if Malena Ernman didn’t hate him, most of The Eurovision Part Of Town didn’t hate him. The only person who questioned if Malena’s comments were true was a student named Yohanna, but she kept her opinions to herself, and stuck to her studies. She didn’t want to cause a fuss as a result of some rumours.

Christer Björkman’s loyalty to the EBU was his driving force. It still is. They saved him from returning to his abyss of depression and doom. He thinks about those days sometimes, the days when his organisational skills were a problem, not a positive. He sometimes spends evenings telling himself that tomorrow is another day when he will not wake up feeling a sense of worthlessness in the pit of his stomach, when seeing Petra will not be something he looks forward to simply because she doesn’t treat him like dirt. Petra. Back when he was still relatively new to the mayoral position, he thought of Petra a lot. He remembered her kindness, and wanted to reward her. He didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. Perhaps she was still at the tourist information board, but that didn’t need anything doing to it, so he had no justifiable reason to find out. Instead, he focussed on ensuring that he did the EBU proud and made The Eurovision Part Of Town the place it deserved to be. He needed to thank them. 

As he got a little more power, as the EBU appreciated him so much, Christer began to organise projects which were close to his heart. The Lost And Forgotten scheme aimed to help those who felt they had no place in The Eurovision Part Of Town to find their purpose. He put Peter Nalitch and his friends in charge of the scheme, as he didn’t want it to seem like he as mayor was favouring some charities over others. The campaign itself has grown though, and today a group called Voltaj oversee its day to day activities. But back then, Christer was trying his absolute best to make change in an unseen way. He prefers to be in the shadows, though attention is sometimes nice. Business has always been his public face. Business and property. Back then, he made a large appearance at the opening performance of the pop-up theatre group InCulto. They’re infectious. And the first time they performed, Christer was seen enjoying their bizarre form of entertainment. At that time, the people still loved him when he joined in the fun. For Christer, as lovely as the music and laughter was, watching pop-up theatre was not what he was made to do. But it came as part of what he was made to do. And that was to be a mayor.

Christer Björkman, as mayor of The Eurovision Part Of Town, has helped quite a lot of people. From appearing at festivals where Zdob şi Zdub race round on unicycles, to granting planning permission for the art studio for Gréta Salóme and Jónsi used to make vaguely cheerful art in before they broke up. But, the most significant thing he probably ever did was realise that he needed help. And to seek help from the person who would give it to him.

Christer Björkman was at a stage in his life where he told himself every night that tomorrow was another day which would be filled with lots of work and changes. The EBU loved all of the large changes he was continually planning and making, but there just weren’t enough hours in the day for him to plan them, execute them, and make public appearances. He had a lot on his plate, what with the new bar which served free alcohol not being the best venture ever made, and he had no idea what to do. Then, the EBU asked him to make a public visit to the public information centre. His stomach twisted itself into a knot as he remember working there so many years ago. But, because he was loyal to the EBU, he went. And she was still there. Petra, in all of her cheerfulness. She grinned at him when he arrived, and they shook hands formally. After the official visit, Christer went into the back office for a coffee, and Petra patted a seat, asking him to tell her everything that had gone on since he disappeared. She had visited Michael Ball’s dance school and heard that Christer had been let go, but then she hadn’t been able to find him, until he was announced as mayor all those years later. She had thought that he was one of the people who move out of The Eurovision Part Of Town after they’ve fulfilled their purpose there. Christer sketchily explained that he got into the council and worked his way up. He asked how she was. Petra told him that she was thinking of retiring from the tourist information centre. She was getting a tad bored of giving constant tours, and she had trained an apprentice by that point: Getter Jaani. Getter was okay, and good enough, even if she did prefer some streets to others, and performed magic tricks along the way. The idea came to Christer there and then. Things got better from there.

With Petra Mede as deputy mayor of The Eurovision Part Of Town, the residents had a friendly face to appear at public events, and Christer had a secretary and friend. He also had more time to plan and carry out various projects, because Petra was going to the official engagements. 

During this time, some of the best things Christer had ever done happened in The Eurovision Part Of Town: Cheesecake became insanely popular after Teo was granted permission to open a dessert café; Mørland & Debrah Scarlett’s restaurant opened (though that has caused Christer some serious headaches regarding food fights) as did Douwe Bob’s bar. Christer’s favourite new establishment is Frans’ coffeehouse. Christer likes Frans a lot, and endorses the coffeehouse enormously. He sees that Frans is just a kid who wants to do well, but has things in his past which can drag him back. Christer knows what it’s like to feel like that, so he throws a lot of his public support behind Frans. Another great change has been the addition of Måns Zelmerlöw as co-deputy with Petra, when the TV station really took off so there were even more mayoral roles to carry out. Petra and Måns get on tremendously, and they both get on with Christer. Not because they fear him, but because they’re friends. And having friends is the best feeling in the world, Christer thinks. He even views Lynda Woodruff, the EBU spokesperson, as a friend, though she is a bit ditzy. He’s just granted her permission to do EBU approved tours from the tourist board, and she’s elated. Every night, he can tell himself that tomorrow is another day when he can do his organisation, Petra and Måns can address the people, Lynda can make her announcements, and life will go on in The Eurovision Part Of Town.

Life isn’t always great. Since Christer retired from the public eye, and Petra (then Måns too) took over, he knows that the residents have increasingly began to dislike him. He doesn’t think much of it. His place is in developing the area, for granting permission for things like the Freaky Fortune and RiskyKidd Partnerships Trampoline Studio. He knows that the people hate it when he doesn’t speak out about things, but they also hate it when he does (like with his promotion of Frans’ coffeehouse). Christer doesn’t care. He’s been hated all his life and had nobody. At least now he’s hated but has a couple of friends to make things nicer for him. He has people who appreciate him, and people’s lives to make better. Sometimes, he considers asking the EBU if he can go and check on The Melodifestivalen Part Of Town, but he doesn’t want to be too cheeky. He still owes the EBU for saving him from unemployment. One day, he might go back to the place that made him into a somebody. But tomorrow is another day when he can think about doing that. For now, he wants to try and get a bit more popular with his own residents. He just wants to be liked.

Everyone knows that Christer Björkman is the mayor of The Eurovision Part Of Town. They probably couldn’t tell you what he looked like, though. He’s rarely seen by the residents. Christer remains firmly behind the scenes, ruling over everything with the cold manner which people all talk of him having. It’s well known that he’s hated. Christer himself, sat in his office inside the old town hall, knows that he’s hated. But then, hasn’t that always been the way? Christer looks out of the office window again. The people in the square below are still moving around like poorly choreographed dancers. It’s karaoke night in Douwe Bob’s bar tonight, and Christer knows everyone will be there, enjoying the atmosphere. Christer won’t. He’ll stay in his office, reviewing the changes which have occurred recently, and deciding what his next project will be. Every day is a day where, as mayor, Christer Björkman makes The Eurovision Part Of Town a little bit better, and this makes him happy. He smiles at his notes, circling a problem in planning permission and property development which he will begin work on the next morning. Every day is a new day where change is made. And Christer is safe in the knowledge that tomorrow, he will make yet more change. He is safe in the knowledge that tomorrow is another day.

The End.

Tomorrow Is Another Day has four parts: The Nobody In A World Of Somebodies, The Nobody In A World of Nobodies, The Somebody In A World Of Nobodies, and The Somebody In A World Of Somebodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who supported me whilst writing this. Thank you to @fandomfishie for allowing me to have such shared control over your creation. I wish to reiterate that all people mentioned in this fic are purely fictional and are in no way meant to accurately represent the people they are very loosely based upon.


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